Warmth
by ShazzyZhang
Summary: The RICKTATORSHIP is in full swing, the group is hungry, homeless and lost. But maybe not everyone is as lost as they seem. Carol x Daryl fluffy romance. Rated T for cussing.


_AN: So this is a one-shot I decided to write in between my editor, Wolfbane, harassing me, and from inspiration from all the behind the scenes teasers we've been given from the Walking Dead set and from the incorrigible Shipperwolf. Funny how in a story that is highly Daryl-centric, it is inspired by two separate, yet equally important wolves. (I think Wolfbane is my "Insnaity Wolf" and Shipperwolf is my "Courage Wolf" but that can change at any time.) Anyway... _

_I disclaim all characters etc._

_So, who missed me?_

_-Shazzy_

_-_**Warmth-**

They all felt like they had been walking for months. Winter hadn't set in yet, thankfully, but the safety and comfort of the farm was a distant memory. The group had spent the last few weeks sleeping under the stars, making makeshift shelters where they could and scavenging wherever there was any potential goods to be had. Rick had taken over the group, he never asked for anyone's opinions, never let anyone voice their concerns. Dissent was starting to ripple through the group and there was more talk of leaving in whispers behind Rick's back.

Everyone but Daryl.

No, the Dixon boy was in his element far more than any of the others. He spent his time patrolling and hunting, though game was few and far between these days. He was the only person Rick confided in, much to the others' chagrin.

Daryl had taken on a lot more responsibility since the destruction of the farm. He'd been Rick's right hand to start with but his duties had grown subtly the longer the group was without a permanent home. He would never admit to it, but he was growing weary, the long watch hours, the lack of sleep and proper food, Rick's borderline insanity, it was all beginning to take a toll on him.

But then he'd remember why he was doing what he was doing. He'd get a small, or a brush of her hand against his arm, or a quiet 'thank you' for even the smallest thing, and it would make everything seem all right in the world again.

So it was with that in mind that he confronted Rick.

"We need supplies, Rick."

Rick stared at Daryl. His eyes were sunken and he'd lost a lot of weight. Everyone had. They'd been moving almost constantly for several weeks and not eating anywhere near as much as they should be. No one was sleeping much and the cooler weather was taking it's toll on everyone.

"I know, Daryl," Rick sighed. "But where are we gonna find them?"

"Let's go back to the highway, raid the cars?" Daryl suggested. "It'll be better'n sittin' out here freezing our asses off and feelin' sorry for ourselves!"

Rick frowned as he considered it. "And what happens if a herd rolls through? Or other survivors? We're not prepared to deal with anything like that."

"And?" Daryl asked. "Who cares? Shit, Rick, your pregnant wife and your son are sufferin'! Isn't that enough to make you wanna get up and do something about it?"

Rick didn't say anything.

"I don't care if this ain't a democracy," Daryl said adamantly. "I'm going back to raid what I can. Maybe get enough supplies to at least let us sleep for longer'n ten minutes at a time. Who knows? Maybe we'll get lucky an' hit a stash of food or somethin'." He glared at Rick. "And I'm going whether you 'approve' it or not."

Daryl stormed off, leaving Rick to consider his words.

It didn't take long before Rick acquiesced and the group was ready to move out in fifteen minutes. The idea of finding food and supplies in abandoned cars was far too appealing to even worry about running into dangers on the way.

The highway was a ripe picking ground. No one had been by except for them and the herd of walkers that had destroyed the farm. Prepackaged food and camping supplies were abundant the further along they got. Everyone was filling backpacks and picking up what they needed.

Daryl was unimpressed. He'd lost better gear on the farm than what he was finding now. He tossed aside useless things, scattering them on the ground as he went, leaving a trail of discarded clothes and personal artifacts in his wake.

He slowed his angry rambling and destruction when she walked up behind him. He cast a look over his shoulder to make sure it wasn't Rick standing over him.

"You here to tell me to stop?" Daryl asked, turning to face the tiny woman who'd all but sneaked up on him.

"No," Carol replied, her pale eyes shining. "I thought maybe you'd like a bit of company?"

Daryl shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

That was as good of an invitation as she could hope for and Carol fell into step beside him as he continued to pry open car doors and rummage through the refuse.

"Daryl?"

He almost cracked his head on the car's interior. She spoke his name so softly, so needfully. It would have broken his heart if he could articulate such a thing.

He climbed out of the car he was rummaging through and ran a hand through his hair. He was a little embarrassed that he'd been so rough and callous with her. She needed him, and if he was being honest with himself, he really needed her, too.

"Yeah?"

Carol walked over to him carefully, carrying a bundle of fabric in her arms. She held it out to him, a small smile playing against her mouth.

"It's not much, but I think you'll get the best use out of this."

Daryl gingerly took the bundle from her, staring at it critically. It took him a moment to realize what she'd just handed over to him.

"Don't you want it? I mean... it'll keep you warmer..."

Carol simply smiled. "You need it more than I do," She insisted. "You're up all night, every night and you never sit near the fire. Take it, at the very least, it'll give me peace of mind."

She turned then, and walked back to join the rest of the group in their scavenging.

Dumbfounded and stricken, Daryl pulled the poncho over his head and wrapped it up around his shoulders to keep his hands free. He cast one last, longing gaze at Carol's retreating back and ducked back inside the car he'd been rummaging through to hide the blush that was slowly creeping up the back of his neck.


End file.
